Ruth Hanson

America, 1887. In a country healing from the horrors of the Civil War, the American West has never been more treacherous. Evil men do as they please, and the often faulty and corrupt justice system does little to nothing to help their victims. Enter the Railwalkers. Bandits whose only goal is to punish those whom the law has allowed to walk free. Some think they're an 28 legend, meant to scare would-be criminals into submission. Some see them as no different than the murderers they kill, while to others, they are angels of mercy. To Violet Donovan, they are family. Growing up as the sole heiress to the sizable Donovan estate, Violet's place of privilege allowed her wild spirit to flourish. Despite the pressures of her sex -- find a husband, stay pretty, have children, be subservient, don't speak out of line -- Violet is passionate, loud, stubborn, and untamed. However, at the ripe, marriageable age of twenty, Violet faces the fact that she may have to give in to her mother's wishes and marry mean, ugly Eustace Carpenter, the only other family name in their little town with comparable worth. But Violet's life changes forever when she is saved from an attacker by a strange woman. A woman who, like Violet, doesn't exactly fit the mold. Unfortunately Violet gets mixed up in a murder charge and has to leave everything she knows for a life on the run from the law. Through divine intervention, she and the woman cross paths again, and Violet comes to know her and her comrades. They are Mei Wong, Linus Cooper, Sitting Bear, and Rory McNab. The infamous Railwalker gang.

The Railwalkers

With as much strength as Violet could muster, she grabbed hold of his pinky around her neck and pulled. The next thing she knew, Simon yelped like a wounded puppy, and pulled both hands away from her. Coughing and light headed, Violet swung wildly. The punches weren’t power-packed, but they were enough to unsettle Simon’s balance. He fell against one of the posters of the bed frame, snapping off the tip on his way down.


Violet desperately searched for the broken bottle, but found it shattered beneath the heel of Simon’s massive boot. However, the splintered bedpost was well within her reach. The broken end had formed itself into a sharp stake; deadlier, perhaps, than any shard of glass. Violet swiped it from the floor and stood. Simon managed to slump to his feet. Rattled, he assessed the weapon Violet held at the ready. He snorted. “The hell you gonna do with that, whore?” Violet remained steady. With a hideous yell, Simon lurched, and Violet struck.


Chapter 117